


Becoming Chuck Hansen

by keepfabandgayon



Series: Trans!Chuck [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Gen, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2017-12-29 06:11:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 16,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keepfabandgayon/pseuds/keepfabandgayon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck Hansen is a man, no matter what is under his clothes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2009

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to the anon on tumblr who decided to exacerbate my Hansenfeels by letting me know someone had come up with a headcanon that Chuck is transgender. It immediately made me cry and then became my own headcanon. 
> 
> Another big thanks to [April](http://randomidiocyncrazies.tumblr.com/) for reading this over to make sure it's not just an incoherent blob, and to all the people who expressed interest in this little project in some way (you all know who you are, and I love you all). You guys kept me going almost as much as my fierce love for this headcanon did. 
> 
> Some warnings that aren't in the tags: transphobia, homophobia, and related slurs; an instance of child abuse; misgendering related to Chuck not being out yet.
> 
> Updates will be on Tuesdays and Saturdays until it's all posted.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This is Chuck. He's my best friend."

_Charlotte Angela Hansen  
b. August 14 2003  
w. 3.1 kg_

\---

2009

\---

"Yesterday, you all drew beautiful pictures of your families. Today, I want you to draw your friends."

Charlotte went to her usual spot in the corner where two windows met and leaned her sketchbook against her bent legs. Her teacher glanced at her, but just sighed and didn't say anything. She was wearing leggings under her skirt; it didn't really matter how she sat, did it?

Charlotte didn't notice; she just dumped out her crayons and went to work, tongue between her teeth as she drew. 

The teacher came over a few minutes later and crouched down next to her to look at her paper. 

"And how about you, Charlotte? Who are you drawing?"

"This is Chuck. He's my best friend."

\---

"I don't think Miss Annie likes you, Chuck. She's always lookin' at me all funny when I talk about you." Charlotte lay back on her bed, passing her hand through the air above her belly, where Chuck's head rested in her imagination. 

"Yeah, well, she's dumb."

"Chuck! Be nice."

Chuck stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry. "No."

"You're gonna get in trouble if you're gonna be so mean."

"Well, she's bein' mean to you. And you're so nice. She d'serves it."

\---

"Hey, Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Chuck wants to talk to you."

"Chuck?" Herc was momentarily confused, but then Charlotte looked to her left and he remembered. "Oh. You mean your ima-- Your friend. Um. Sure. What does he want to tell me?"

Charlotte took a deep breath, then put on the angriest face she could manage. "Charlotte's teacher is a butt." She widened her eyes and looked over to her left again. "Chuck!"

Herc laughed. "Tell me, Chuck, why's Miss Annie a butt?"

Charlotte quickly switched back to Chuck's expression. "Charlotte says Miss Annie looks at her funny when she talks about me. She asks weird questions, like where I live and how much Charlotte plays with me and what I look like. And she asks them like she's testing me-- her." Charlotte's eyes dropped down to the ground, embarrassed. _Careful..._

"I'll talk to her tomorrow, okay?"

"Thank you!" Charlotte grinned. She climbed into Herc's lap and tried to read from his book. "What are you reading, Daddy?"

"It's an old book. You wouldn't like it."

"Hmpf."

"I'll read _Harry Potter_ to you if you want."

"Yes!"

\---

An hour or so later, the front door opened. 

"Mommy!"

Herc raised his arms as Charlotte slid down off his lap, then stood and went to the door after Charlotte. She was hugging Angela's right leg. 

Charlotte smiled at Chuck, who had his arms around Angela's left leg, then up at her mother. "Mommy, do the thing!"

Angela laughed. "Is Chuck ready?"

"Mm-hmm!"

Angela picked up her left leg very slowly, faking a great effort, and roared like a dinosaur. "Raaagh!" She took a step, then picked up her right leg, swinging Charlotte forward, and continued in this manner until she crossed the ten or so feet to Herc, who was now chuckling at the sight. "Hi, honey." She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. 

Charlotte turned her head to the side and shrieked "EEEEEEWWWW!!!" then laughed loudly. 

"How have you three been doing?"

"Awesome!" Charlotte answered. "Miss Annie's a butt, though. Chuck says so."

\---

"Hey Charlotte."

She looked up from her drawing of a dog and into the eyes of the boy that Miss Annie said had a crush on her. 

"Is _Chuck_ with you?"

Charlotte pouted. "He goes to a different school."

"Or a different planet. You know he's not real, right? You're making him up. You still have an imaginary friend! Haha! It's probably because you don't have any real friends, you need to make one up. Or maybe you're just crazy. You’re a freak!"

"Leave me alone!"

"Nyeh nyeh nyeeeeeh!" He screwed up his face and whined. "No one's going to want to be your friend if you sound like that. Not even Chuck."

She stood up. "I said leave me alone!"

"No!"

She shoved him back, and he fell. 

" _Miss Annie! Charlotte pushed me!_ "

Miss Annie came over. "Charlotte! We don't push people."

"He was being mean!"

"It's still not okay to hurt people. If someone's being mean to you, you just tell me."

"BUT YOU DON'T DO ANYTHING!" she screamed. The other students went silent and stared at her. "You just tell me he has a crush on me! But he's _mean_! People shouldn't be mean to you if they like you, that's not okay either! That's just as bad as pushing, maybe worse. But you let him do it every time! It's not fair!" Tears leaked out from her eyes and she turned and ran out of the room. 

"Charlotte!"

\---

Charlotte locked the bathroom stall -- the boys' bathroom, so Miss Annie wouldn't find her -- and picked her feet up, resting them on the lid of the toilet and wrapping her arms around her knees. 

She sniffled loudly. "Chuck?"

She imagined Chuck was in the stall next to her. "Yeah Charlotte?"

"Miss Annie's definitely a butt."

"Yeah. And so's Paul. You should kick his ass."

"Don't say that word! That's a bad word."

"Who told you that? Miss Annie? You know she doesn't ever tell Paul not to say bad words. You should kick her ass, too."

"No, I'd get in trouble. I'm already in trouble. Why'd you yell at her like that?"

"I had to protect you."

"But now I'm--"

"You know you wanted to say all of that anyway."

"...Yeah, I did. Why do you always say what I want to say?"

"Because I'm you."


	2. 2013

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What do you think they'd say about me if they knew?"

\---

2013

\---

Charlotte made a face at the outfit laid out on her bed. "Mom, I don't want to wear skirts anymore."

"Okay." Angela dug out a pair of jeans that Charlotte hadn't worn in a while, and put the skirt and leggings away. "See if these still fit. We can get you some more pants this weekend if you want."

"Yeah!" She started getting dressed for her first day of year three. 

\---

"Happy birthday, Charlotte!" 

"Uncle Scott!" She ran up to him and jumped up into his arms, hanging off his neck. 

"Jesus, kid, I can't lift ya anymore. And what the hell happened to your hair?" It was cut in a bob that ended at her chin, with a thin fringe falling over her forehead. It was also a mess, as she hadn't brushed it yet. 

"She wanted it short," Angela explained, "so I cut it."

"There's nothing left!"

Charlotte stuck out her tongue; the habit never really went away since she was little. "There's plenty left! I wanted it shorter. Can I open my present?"

"Sure. You'll need it with hair like that."

Charlotte was already back down on the floor and tearing open the box, so she didn't hear him. She stopped suddenly. "Oh."

"Oh? No ‘thank you’? I thought you'd like it."

"I don't really wear dresses." She pulled the dress out, pinching the shoulders between her fingertips, and made a face. "But thanks."

"I bet everyone thinks you're a boy if you don’t ever wear dresses."

"So what if they do? I don't care."

"You should care. You're not a boy."

She rolled her eyes. "So? People treat boys better than girls anyway."

"Let's have some cake!" Angela chimed in, seeing the harsh response about to explode out of Scott. 

\---

"She acts like a boy. You need to make sure she doesn't turn out to be a dyke."

"Don't you dare use language like that in this house!" Angela was one of two people who ever met Scott who had never been afraid of him -- the other being his brother -- and she was far more inclined to fight Scott than Herc was.

"I'll use whatever damn language I want. You're gonna fuck that kid up if you keep humouring her."

"Watch your mouth."

Scott glared at her and went back into the kitchen. "Get that bitch a leash," he spat over his shoulder at Herc. 

"What did you just say?"

"God, have you gone soft too? I'm out of here."

\---

Neither of them knew Charlotte had heard everything. 

Chuck grabbed her hand and held it tightly. "It'll be okay. Scott's an ass, but Mom and Dad still love us, right?"

"They don't _know_ , though. Everyone thinks it's so bad that I act like a boy. What do you think they'd say about me if they knew? Do you really think Mom and Dad would still love us? Would love me?"

"...I hope so."

\---

_Dear Diary,_

_I know I haven't written in a while -- diaries are so girly and I don't really like writing -- but I want to remember this. And it's a cool story, too._

_Last night we went to bed once Uncle Scott left, and this morning we woke up when Mom screamed at the TV. There was a giant monster attacking California! It came out of the ocean!_

_It killed a lot of people, so that's not really cool. But the monster looks cool! It's really big and looks like it has an axe on its head. They're calling it Trespasser on the news, but I think they should call it Axehead._

_It's still destroying things over in California. I guess I'm a little scared. What if it turns around and goes back into the ocean and swims all the way to Australia? It's really really big, it could probably do that. But I'm not that scared. Dad can probably fight it with one of those army planes!_

_Anyway, my birthday is in a few days. Mom wants me to bring cupcakes to school. I asked her if we can make the cupcakes look like dogs. Dogs are cool. I want one._

_Your Friend,_

_Chuck_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is at this point that we begin getting somewhere... 
> 
> if you want to see some of my thinky-thoughts and perspective on this fic, feel free to take a trip over to the trans!chuck [series page](http://archiveofourown.org/series/59173) and read the notes. i will probably add more in there as the story progresses.


	3. 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She thought he smelled like fire.

\---

2014

\---

Charlotte squeezed herself under the tiny desk and covered her ears with her hands to block out the thunderous roaring off in the distance. Her short hair caught in the screws on the underside of the desk and a few strands were pulled out. 

The roar was followed by an explosion, much louder than the ones before. 

"Jesus," Mr. Robinson, their student teacher, said. "They're dropping a nuke on it already."

A few moments passed, and another roar was heard, louder than before. 

"I think they just pissed it off!" Mrs. Carlton said, voice shaking. 

"What do we do?"

"I have no clue. Pray?"

_Chuck,_ Charlotte thought, _I wish you were here._

_I'm always here. I'm you, remember?_

_Help me be brave._

_You are brave._

The principal's voice came over the speakers. "We've been ordered to evacuate this side of the city. Please make your way to the buses in an orderly manner. We'll be filling them by class, as follows..."

As Charlotte followed her class to Bus 12, a helicopter roared overhead and dropped down to land in front of the school. 

Herc threw open the door and yelled out at the crowd of students and teachers. "Charlotte!" He spotted her and jumped out, running to her. 

"Dad! What are you doing?"

"We're leaving. Mrs. Carlton, I'm taking my kid with me."

"All right, Mr. Hansen," the teacher responded, voice shaking. Rapid shots fired in the distance, but not distant enough, and the following roar was far too close for comfort. 

Herc grabbed Charlotte’s hand and ran her back to the helicopter. "I hope your mother is all right."

"Mom's still at work?"

"Yeah."

"Can't we go get her?"

Herc shook his head. "That thing's already made landfall. They evacuated her building already. Here, put these on." He handed her a headset. "Hold the ear covers down, I don't have one that'll fit you. Buckle up first."

\---

Angela didn't make it. 

Her building had been evacuated early enough that she'd gotten out before it toppled, but another building had fallen on top of the car she'd been leaving in. She and the three co-workers sharing the car with her died instantly.

Herc didn't know that, though. He never got a call from her. She didn't get the chance. He would forever wonder what it was that took her from him. Was it Scissure, or was it their own human weapons?

And he'd never find out; the second, fatal nuclear strike had hit Scissure only minutes later, as it stood in the park not a hundred meters from where Angela’s car had been. No-one went back into the newly irradiated and completely destroyed area of downtown Sydney to recover bodies. They couldn't. 

That night, and for many nights after, Herc held Charlotte close, the two of them shaking as they cried together on the guest bed in Scott's apartment. 

\---

"I'm sorry for all the shit I said about her. I was an idiot."

"You were."

Scott looked down at his half-finished coffee, then at Herc's full mug. He drained his own and then said, "News said a Pan-Pacific Defence Convention was held last week. They're trying to find better ways to kill the things. Not nukes."

Herc just grunted in response. 

"D'you know where Charlotte's going to school now?"

"No."

"I can sign her up at--"

"Scott. Shut the fuck up."

\---

A few weeks later, Herc disappeared for three days, leaving in the early morning. 

Charlotte didn’t worry until he didn’t show up for dinner, but she spent the first night lying awake, hoping her dad would come home. The second day, she didn’t even get up to eat, and later fell asleep just as the sun was going down, completely exhausted. Her dreams were nightmares, filled with Kaiju attacks and both of her parents crushed under enormous feet. 

She never left the bedroom, instead locking the door and shoving her head under the pillows to block out the sound of Scott coming over every few hours to pound on her door and try to coax her out. 

By the third day, he was yelling. She just kept ignoring him, not even hearing his threats. 

“At least let me know you’re alive!” he shouted through the door. 

“Leave me alone!” she shouted back. 

He didn’t knock again after that. The next sound Charlotte heard was a much softer knocking, long after the sun had already gone down. 

She got up and let Herc into the room. He knelt down and hugged her, and she thought he smelled like fire. 

Charlotte never asked why he’d left.


	4. 2015 part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She never did tell them otherwise.

\---

2015

\---

As soon as footage of Brawler Yukon's first successful test appeared on the news, Herc knew his time with the RAAF was over. 

" _The neural load of the Jaeger is too much for one person to handle,_ ” the news anchor said, “ _so all Jaegers will be piloted by two people whose minds are able to both communicate with each other and share the neural load through the Pons system._ ” Images of Brawler Yukon’s blueprints came up, and an animation showed the different layers building on top of each other. A close-up of the head faded to a cutaway showing two silhouetted pilots with glowing green lines connecting their heads. “ _After some testing, it has been suggested that people who have close relationships with one another and high levels of trust are best able to connect with each other._ "

Herc looked at Scott, and Scott stared back. 

"Want to kill some Kaiju?" Scott asked. 

"You know I do."

\---

Charlotte grew up in Shatterdomes, first at the Jaeger Academy in Kodiak and later in Sydney. 

She grew up surrounded by military structure and giant robots and the constant looming threat of a Kaiju attack. She learned from the Rangers, from the K-Scientists, from the various technicians, and from the online tutoring sessions Herc set up for her until she stopped using them. 

She grew up in the Jaeger bays, learning how to fix heavy machinery while ignoring homework. Technically, she didn’t have clearance to be there, but no-one ever kicked her out. 

Her short hair, which had been a messy mop she'd cut down with safety scissors a few days before Scissure, was shorn further into the soldier-like buzz cut most of the Rangers took on in the early days. Most took her for a boy; not surprising, as all she wore were the unisex, adult-sized PPDC-issued clothes that were pretty much all she had. 

She never did tell them otherwise. 

\---

"Hercules, your son is looking for you."

"Son?"

"Yes. What's his name, Chuck?" 

"Chu- Oh. Yeah. Where...?"

"He's in Lucky's head."

"Damn kid." Herc stormed off. 

\---

"Chuck?"

A small gasp sounded from inside Lucky Seven's half-finished conn-pod. "Dad?"

"Come out here." 

The child shuffled out slowly, eyes cast down, and stopped in front of Herc. He kneeled at Chuck's level. 

"Kaori said _Chuck_ was looking for me. A lot of the Rangers seem to think you're a boy."

"Everyone does."

"Everyone?"

"Almost."

"Do you want to tell me why?"

Chuck looked up at him, not quite meeting his eyes, and shrugged. 

"Do you want them to keep thinking that?"

After a few moments, Chuck nodded. 

"And me?"

Chuck nodded faster that time. "Please don't be mad."

"Why would I be mad?"

"Everyone always said I shouldn't act like a boy."

"Did I ever say that?"

"...No."

He put a hand on Chuck's shoulder. "How long have you thought this?"

Chuck shrugged. "Always, I guess. When I made Chuck, my imaginary friend Chuck, he was always all of the things I wished I could be. Strong, brave, loud... someone who fights back when people are mean. And he's a little mean too. And I always kind of knew he was really me."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"At first I didn't know how."

"And then?"

"We didn’t have time. You were so busy with the Academy. And then... I got scared."

Herc nodded. "I don't want you to be scared to tell me something ever again, okay?"

"Okay. But. Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm... _changing_."

Herc felt like his stomach jumped up into his throat. 

"I don't want to."

He nodded. "We'll figure something out."

\---

"Doctor Geiszler?" Herc had never been down to the K-Labs before. He never really had reason to; they did their work, he did his, and when their work helped his, someone would tell him about it. But this was different. 

"Call me Newt." Newt smiled at Herc, then turned back to the unknown piece of Kaiju currently bleeding out over his lab table. He was up to his elbows in the thing, thick Blue-resistant gloves going all the way up to his shoulders. "Nice to see you down here for once. You need something?"

"I thought you might be able to help me. You were in a, uh. A student group in college."

"I was in a few, yeah. Which one d'you need to know about? Vegans?"

"G@MIT."

Newt pulled his arms out of the Kaiju organ with a loud squelching noise. "This is about Chuck, isn't it?"

"I didn't say--"

"I knew already, man. He walked by my room once, saw some pictures from when I went to Smith's Drag Ball in a dress, and started talking a mile a minute. I guess he told you?"

"Yeah. She--" Newt glared at Herc. "He, sorry."

"Don't apologise to _me_ , man," Newt muttered, pulling his gloves off slowly. 

"Chuck wants to.. what do you call it? He said he doesn't want to, uh, _change_."

Newt nodded as if he suddenly held the wisdom of all the universe. "He wants to keep looking like a boy. You're thinking of the word _transition_ , but he probably doesn't see it that way. You're gonna want to talk to _him_ about what exactly it is he wants, but my guess is sending him through female puberty isn't a great idea. He _is_ gonna need a psychiatrist for hormone blockers, though. And anything else, if he wants to go further than that." Newt was rifling through a drawer at his desk, and pulled out a business card. "Here it is! Call Natalie." He handed over the card to Herc. "She's had a few trans* patients. But, uh, you shouldn't be the one to tell her why Chuck's going there. Just say your kid's got some issues, you think it'd be best for him to explain it, something like that. Don't ever out someone. Got it?"

Herc stared down at the business card and tried to process everything Newt had just said. "Think so."

"Anything else you need?"

"Yeah. The Marshall's asking for--"

"Shit, I still have to finish that. Get out, go talk to your son. And if you see Tasmin, tell her she left her ID in here." Newt threw himself down into his desk chair -- it rolled a little, and he yelped as he nearly fell out of it -- and started shuffling through the mess of papers on top of the desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chuck is eleven at this point, which might be pushing it a little on the 'his body is just now starting to change noticeably' front, but then again there were a small number of female-bodied people in my schools who were flat-chested well into high school. 
> 
> 2015 is split over two chapters; the next part will be up on saturday.


	5. 2015 part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Mostly I just don't want to look like a girl. Is that okay?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot to mention this with the last chapter, but if anyone is wondering whether my newt is trans* or just particularly knowledgeable on the topic for a cis-man, well, my only answer is "what do you think?"

\---

"Good morning, Chuck." Dr. Natalie Martin-Nguyen greeted the Hansens from the front porch of her house. "You're my first appointment today," she said by way of explanation, and drained her mug of coffee, then stood to shake their hands. 

Herc's first impression of her was that she was very pretty. Her wavy black hair was cut to just below her chin, with bits that seemed like she was growing out a fringe falling over her hazel eyes. Her russet-coloured skin was almost the same shade as his jacket, and when she smiled at them, the little lines around her eyes deepened in a way that reminded him almost overpoweringly of Angela. 

"Thanks for scheduling us on such short notice," Herc said. "I imagine you've got a lot of business these days."

She shrugged as she unlocked the door. "Not as much as you'd think. I'm not exactly a specialist in PTSD. Why the PPDC recruited me, I’ll never understand." 

Her office was in an annex attached to the house that the PPDC psych team shared. A small entrance area, set up as a waiting room, led into a short hallway. There were two doors on the right; one led to a bathroom, and the other into the rest of the house. Two more doors were on the left, each marked with two names, and the door at the end of the hall was marked with her name. 

"Patients only beyond this point." Dr. Martin-Nguyen waved Chuck forward. "We'll be done in an hour."

Herc watched her lead Chuck down the hall and into the room. Before the door closed, she said, "Not everyone gets to come here in a helicopter..." and Chuck's responding laugh followed. 

Herc took a seat on the lumpy-looking but comfortable couch. A whiteboard next to the window proclaimed "This week's Wi-Fi password is **bluestocking**!" He pulled out his datapad from one of the pockets of his jacket; might as well get some reading done. 

\---

An hour later, Herc had barely made it through a paragraph, too distracted by his own thoughts to pay attention. The door at the end of the hall opened and Dr. Martin-Nguyen came out, followed by Chuck, who was smiling, but had eyes rimmed with a bit of red. 

"Mr. Hansen?"

He stood quickly, arms tense and straight at his sides. "Yes, ma'am."

She laughed. "At ease, soldier. Chuck wants to try hormone blockers. I can't prescribe them for him yet -- protocol, you know. I'll have to see him a few more times first. Would you be able to make it here this time next week?"

Herc nodded, at a loss for words. He wasn't sure if he was ready for this. 

"I'd also like to send you some reading material, if you don't mind, and have a conversation with you next time."

He just nodded again, and reached out for Chuck's hand. Chuck looked like he was thinking about it for a moment, then moved over to stand next to Herc. He didn't take Herc’s hand, but then, he was 12 years old, probably too old to be holding his dad's hand any more. 

\---

"So what did you two talk about?"

Herc handed Chuck his sandwich and sat down next to him on the park bench. The borrowed PPDC helicopter was parked a few meters away, to the apparent humour of the few passing citizens. 

Chuck shrugged and bit into the sandwich, then answered, mouth full. "Stuff."

Herc stared at him with a look that clearly said _you're not getting away with that answer_. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want, but don’t try and be a smartass about it.”

Chuck sighed and then swallowed. "She asked me to talk about what's happened to me recently. I said I just told you I'm a boy. Guess she understood what I meant. We talked about that. Then she asked if I wanted to transition, and I didn't know what that meant, so she explained, and I said yes. She told me all these different things I could do to start with and asked what sounded like a good idea, and I picked the blockers because I don't know how much I really want my body to change yet. Mostly I just don't want to look like a girl." He grabbed the front of his PPDC-issued sweater and pulled at it slightly. "Is that okay?"

Herc didn't know how to answer. _Was_ it okay with him? He wasn't sure. He didn't really know anything about how hormone blockers would affect Chuck, or, really, about any of this transgender stuff. But he wanted what was best for Chuck. 

"So long as it won't hurt you."

Chuck let a small smile show at that, then went back to his sandwich.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chuck's birthday passed in the week-ish between the last chapter and this one. 
> 
> dr. natalie martin-nguyen has a good amount of characterisation in my head that didn't make it into the fic; i'll be adding some of that to the [series notes](http://archiveofourown.org/series/59173).


	6. 2017

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I never got the chance to tell you."

\---

2017

\---

Almost as soon as the Hansens arrived at the brand-new Sydney Shatterdome, Chuck blurted out, "I want to tell Mom."

Herc's hand dropped down hard on the top of the suitcase he’d been about to grab. He took a deep breath. 

"Dad? We don't have to..."

"No, no, it's okay. We can't... Is the memorial good?"

"Yeah."

“All right. We’ll go as soon as we unpack."

\---

Chuck and Herc had never visited the memorial to the victims of Scissure's attack on Sydney. It wasn't out of lack of respect, certainly not; it was just that for so long they weren't ready, and once Herc joined the PPDC, they didn't have time. 

It was empty when they arrived. Chuck looked up at the mosaic on the dome above them, arranged into swirls apparently intended to depict a sky clearing after a storm. To Chuck, however, it looked like the storm was coming in. 

There was a heavy book in the centre of the dome, with a pen on a chain in front of it. Herc went up to it and wrote in Angela's name and birth date on the next blank line. Chuck ran his hand over the ink when he was done, then went over to the wall and dropped down onto one of the low benches carved into it. 

He closed his eyes to block out the oncoming storm above him. "Hey, Mom. This is Chuck. You and Dad named me Charlotte, but that was never really me. That’s kinda why I’m here. 

"Y'see, I'm a boy. I was always Chuck. I never got the chance to tell you. I was afraid of what you'd think. But I'm not so afraid any more. I told Dad… maybe two years ago, and I'm seeing a shrink. 'Cause apparently that's what I've got to do if I want to keep looking like a boy. 

“I wish you were here, Mom. I wish I could tell you to your face. But... this is the closest thing I've got, I guess.

“I love you, Mom."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter this time, but that's what happens when you break up a story into years. not that my chapters are ever particularly long. 
> 
> happy halloween, to anyone seeing this around when it's being posted. wear a costume. beg your neighbours for candy. eat said candy. get lots of cavities that are so worth it. 
> 
> to anyone who may read this in the future, i hope the best for your celebrations that were and celebrations to be. i urge you also to feast on whatever is appropriate for the occasion.


	7. 2019 part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don't tell me I've got a sibling."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2019 was one of the hardest years for me to write. not that it gets much easier from here on out, but i just thought i should mention it. it'll be split over three chapters.

\---

2019

\---

Every time a new Jaeger team formed, all the Mark I pilots from the Jaeger class of 2015 were expected to go and meet them before their first year was up. The only ones who ever got out of it were the Kaidonovskys, who flat-out refused to leave Vladivostok for anything other than a Kaiju -- and no one fought with the Kaidonovskys. 

Herc and Scott, however, were being pulled out of active service several times a year to make trips to meet people who, for the most part, didn’t really need or want their help. Every team had a different fighting style; every team would learn better on their own, in combat, than from advice from people they didn’t know, half the time in a language they barely understood. Herc saw it as a waste of time more than anything; Marshall Pentecost didn’t disagree with him, but he found that keeping up the appearance of predictability kept the PPDC funded, and nothing said “we’re predictable!” like passing on knowledge in person. 

Herc had barely spent any time in Sydney in the past year, though. 

This time, they were meeting the Wei triplets, who had already been deployed once. Admittedly, they were interesting; ex-street fighters, the first and only team of three, and one of the few teams to have a specialised Jaeger built to fit their style. But, if for no other reason than that there were three of them, Herc had nothing to give. 

Scott wouldn’t stop talking, though. The Weis looked distinctly uninterested. 

In about a week, Herc and Scott would head back to Sydney, and while Herc would welcome the return home, they’d just be going back to yet more training. It never ended, really, no matter how long you’d been in a Jaeger. You could always be better. For now, though, they shared an empty room in the Hong Kong Shatterdome, surrounded by people who they mostly couldn’t talk to and fumbling their way through meals, using chopsticks as skewers because they couldn’t find the forks. 

“Have you called Charlotte lately?”

“His name’s Chuck.”

Scott rolled his eyes. "When are you going to stop letting her think she’s a man?”

Herc sighed. Scott might have been the only one who still saw Chuck as a girl; most of the PPDC had never known Chuck as anything other than a young man in the first place. 

"Scott, we talked about this."

"Yeah, _you_ talked, and I told you you're a fool for letting this stupidity continue. Those drugs are gonna mess her up more than you already have."

"No, they won't.” He tried to remember how Dr. Martin-Nguyen had explained it to him. “The testosterone is adjusting his body to fit more with his concept of himself, so that he can grow up to look like the man that he is and not feel a disconnect between his body and mind."

"Like I said, messing her up. When your kid says she's a tranny, you don't _humour her_. You _deal with her_. You make her realise she's got no fucking clue what's going on."

Herc stood up. " _You've_ got no clue, Scott." It seemed like a childish response, and it wasn’t nearly enough, but what else could he say? It wasn’t as if Scott ever listened to him. 

Scott was right about one thing; Herc _didn’t_ know what to do. He didn’t know what to say to Chuck half the time, and couldn’t even find the words to start asking what Chuck thought about being transgender. 

God, that didn’t even sound right -- and what _would_ he think? It was normal for him; it was _life_. Was it even something Herc should ask about? The articles Dr. Martin-Nguyen continued to send him every once in a while usually said he should, but they also included stories of parents who could never understand, no matter how hard they tried, and how someone would say the wrong thing and cause irreparable damage. Was it worth the risk?

When Herc returned to Sydney, he still hadn’t decided. 

\---

Smears of oil ran up and down Chuck's arms. He shoved them back into Striker Eureka's shoulder joint, untangling the mess of wires left behind by whoever had done the job the first time. They ran around each other and the mechanical tendons beneath in a way that would wear out their coating before the first Neural Handshake was completed. How did these people ever graduate the Jaeger Academy?

Someone walked up to the balcony below him. Chuck stayed focussed on the wires until he was reasonably certain they'd survive a fight, then grabbed one of the cables near him and zipped down it to the balcony. 

Herc was there, with a wriggling bundle of a blanket in his arms. 

"Don't tell me I've got a sibling." The bundle was too small, but that didn't stop Chuck from worrying. With his dad never around, Chuck would probably be expected to take care of it...

The bundle answered for Herc, letting out a loud bark. Chuck tugged off his gloves and came closer as Herc unwrapped the blanket enough to reveal the wrinkliest puppy Chuck had ever seen. 

"Happy Birthday, kid."

Chuck was stunned. All those years of wanting a dog, asking year after year when he was young... 

"I know I haven't been around much. I wish I could tell you that's going to change, but I won't make you a promise I can't keep. It's not the same as me being here, but maybe he can keep you company when I'm not." He transferred the blanket into Chuck's grease-stained arms. "Might not want to touch him until you're clean though, unless you want to give him a bath right away."

Chuck nodded slowly, still a little dumbstruck. "Thanks. D'you have more training now?"

Herc shook his head. "We're getting a shipment of Academy grads in today, I'm supposed to show 'em around. I'll see you tonight, yeah? Birthday dinner?"

"Yeah. Sure. See you, Dad."

\---

"Happy Birthday, Charlotte."

Chuck scowled. "Piss off, Scott." He kept his attention on the puppy sleeping on his chest. 

"Don't let your father hear you talking like that. Now, come on, I got you a present."

"Is it another dress?" He scratched at the traces of facial hair starting to appear at the back of his jaw. 

"Come see."

Chuck carefully picked up the puppy and set him on the bed. He stirred a bit, but kept sleeping. Chuck jumped down from the top bunk, checked on the dog once more, and then grabbed the box from his uncle and tore into the wrapping paper. A dark green racerback sundress was released from the box. 

"I thought maybe if it was a little less frilly--"

"Awesome." He grabbed the dress with both hands at the waist and pulled, tearing the skirt off, then pulled the top over his head. His chest, built up like the rest of him from sparring with the Rangers and mechanics, filled out the room that would have been left for a woman’s breasts, albeit in a very different way. "It even fits!"

Scott stared at him, stunned. "You ungrateful little--"

"Oh, I'm _very_ grateful. Thanks so much, Uncle Scott. Now I've got a new shirt _and_ a new blanket!" Chuck picked up the skirt off the ground and tore apart one of the seams on its side, then tossed it up onto his bed, careful not to wake the dog. "You know me _so_ well."

"You're damn lucky I don't hit girls, kid, otherwise you’d be on your ass, crying."

"Hit me, then. I'm not a girl."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in a way, chuck's been lucky so far. shuffling his life around in the PPDC has, for the most part, kept his assigned-at-birth sex a secret (which is where he wants it to stay), so he hasn't had to deal with a ton of transphobia. 
> 
> except for scott. he's an asshole.


	8. 2019 part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hit me, then. I'm not a girl."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is late! i wasn't home yesterday when my reminder alarm went off and of course i forgot by the time i got back.
> 
> also, i'll be calling Our Most Dangerous of Jaegers "lady danger" because her canon name has been somewhat controversial.

There were a staggering number of downsides to sharing a room with your kid, and one was that if there was an attack in the middle of the night, and you got deployed, your kid would know about it. 

Herc squinted at the flashing display, blinking sleep out of his eyes. "Manila? Again? Damn.” He heard shifting above him. “Go back to sleep, Chuck."

"'Kay. Good luck."

This would be Herc and Scott's last time piloting Lucky Seven; they were to be reassigned to Striker Eureka, the first Mark-V Jaeger, as soon as it passed its final inspections. Someone else would get Lucky; probably those twins... 

Scott came in with a scowl on, which turned to a half-smile, half-grimace when he saw Herc. "Just got to sleep an' the alarm went off. The lady was none too happy about it."

Herc gave a little wave, then winced as the circuitry suit caught on the hair on his arms. They were so much more comfortable after the relay gel was dispensed through them. "Who was she this time?" He had a feeling he knew the answer. 

"Don't remember her name..."

Herc shook his head. "You see a pretty girl and you take her to bed without so much as asking her name first."

"Not all of us are into commitment, Herc. Though Natalie's pretty nice-looking for a woman her age..."

"Don't go there." He liked Natalie, sure, but she was his kid's therapist. He wasn't going to intrude on the trust Chuck had in her, and it would be unprofessional of her anyway to date the father of a patient. 

Herc slapped a hand on the outside of Lucky Seven's head before entering the conn-pod; he heard the thunk behind him of Scott doing the same. 

At this point, their Drifts were nothing short of professional. Scott ignored most anything to do with Chuck, not without a little flare of anger that Herc put out of his mind until they had the time to deal with it. Herc did the mental equivalent of looking away from all the images of the women Scott took to bed, and found little of interest in the life of his show-off of a brother -- though there was one image that stuck, just a flash, of Chuck in a fighting stance, but it was gone as soon as it showed itself, and then the rush of new memories ended. 

" _Right hemisphere aligned... Left hemisphere aligned..._ "

"Rangers, you'll be deployed along with Lady Danger as backup to Horizon Brave against a Category IV Kaiju. You are to protect the city and take down the Kaiju."

"I hear you, Marshall," Scott called out. "Let's get going!"

\---

Something was wrong in the Drift. 

They weren't aligned properly. It'd been fine back at the Shatterdome, but the closer they got to Manila the more Herc felt the tug of Scott pulling away, closing in on himself. After they’d released their transport and started to walk the last few miles, their neural connection dropped down to 80%. 

"Don't chase the R.A.B.I.T., Scott. You've been doing this too long, you should know better. What could you possibly have done since the last time we Drifted?"

Scott didn't respond; he just sent his irritation through the Drift and pushed them even harder towards the sound of metal on rock-like skin. 

"We can't do this if you're going to keep things from me."

"It's none of your damn business."

The image of Chuck clenching his fists, ready to take a swing, rushed through Herc's mind again, and Scott quickly reined it in, drawing further back into his own head. 

"Damn it, Scott, it _does_ have to do with me when it's my kid, and we're going out of alignment. We can't fight like this!"

"Shut _up_!" Scott lashed out at Herc through the Drift, blinding him for a moment with white-hot rage that flashed like bright lights in his eyes. He heard screaming. 

"Scott!"

Herc's shout was drowned out by the sound of a Kaiju roaring. They sped up even more, up to the closest thing to a run their Jaeger could achieve. 

"Looks like only one Jaeger's there... Where's Horizon Brave?"

The voice of a young man came through their Jaeger-to-Jaeger comms. "This is Raleigh Becket. Horizon's down, was when we got here. Thank God you're here."

The two Jaegers were more than a match for this Kaiju. It was a Category IV, for sure, but it was slower than those that Lucky Seven had taken down before. Its back was hard like a shell, and its tail, the only part of it that moved with great speed, was sharply barbed. But after it charged at them a few times and scratched out deep gouges on both Jaegers, Scott grabbed hold of the underside of the shell and he and Herc pushed the Kaiju onto its side. Its limbs flailed in the air and it scratched at Lucky Seven. 

"Beckets! The belly's soft! When you see a shot, take it!"

Moments later, a light flashed on the side of Lucky Seven's head as Lady Danger's plasma cannon powered up. The discharge hit the Kaiju in the centre of its chest, and it screamed as it was shot several more times. It tried to lash out with its tail, but Lucky Seven just pushed it back further and it rolled on top of its tail and into the water with one last shot from the plasma cannon.

A huge hole had been blasted through its chest, and most of its internal organs were destroyed or vaporised. _Geiszler's not going to be very happy..._ Herc thought. 

The Beckets' cheers came through the comms. "Whooo! That was our fourth kill!"

"Good job, boys," Herc called out. "Now go get some rest."

"Will do, sir!" The Jaeger did a little dance before marching off to the North. 

Herc flicked off the comms, then turned to Scott. "You want to explain to me what I saw just before we got here?"

"What do you mean? You didn't see anything."

“Oh yes I did.”

“I didn’t do anything--”

"You're a liar and a coward!" The memory came back up, as Herc dragged it forcibly from Scott's mind. 

_Chuck’s fists raised. "Hit me, then. I'm not a girl."_

_Herc experienced the memory through Scott’s eyes, and felt himself reach his arm back --_ No, no, no, God no _\-- and his hand smacked across Chuck's face, hard enough to bruise. Scott had been wearing a ring; he felt it when it connected with Chuck's jaw._

_Chuck fell back onto Herc's bed, hitting the back of his head on a metal post that supported his own bunk. Blood welled up from a cut on his cheek where the ring had connected. Herc saw the ring flash in the overhead lights of the tiny room, and the ornate 7 on Scott’s Jaeger ring shone._

_"Guess sometimes I have to break a few rules, like when a little bitch like you needs to get put in her place. You don't get to decide you're a man. You’re a_ girl _, for God’s sake; start acting like one."_

Herc felt sick as he was thrown out of the Drift. He tore off his helmet. Lucky Seven jerked forward, and then the safety brakes kicked in and kept it standing and balanced as Scott dropped out as well, unconscious. 

"Looks like we're not Drift Compatible any more."


	9. 2019 part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You can't protect me forever."

\---

The first thing Herc did, after the choppers came to their rescue and brought them back to the Sydney Shatterdome, was find Chuck. He was just leaving the mess hall, with Max tripping over his own paws but following happily at his heels. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" 

"Tell you what?" Chuck didn’t stop walking. 

"What Scott did to you."

Chuck looked to the side, not quite meeting his father’s eyes. "I didn't think it was important."

"Not important? Chuck, no-one should treat you like that. Don't ever let anyone get away with it."

"I beat him up pretty bad after he hit me, it was fine."

Herc grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face him, stopping them in the middle of the hallway. Max barked as he was nearly stepped on. "It was not fine!"

Chuck yanked his arm out of his dad’s grasp. "I can take care of myself, Dad!" Chuck was yelling, drawing attention from the groups of techs and Rangers passing by, wondering why Herc, still in his circuitry suit, and his son were having a fight in the middle of the hall. 

"It's not about that. It's about the fact that I deserve to know, as your father. I’m here to protect you."

"It isn't always about you, Dad! You can't protect me forever. I'm not your little fucking princess any more! I never was, and I never will be. And it’s not like you can protect me if you’re never around in the first place. You’re gone for weeks at a time. You’ve barely been here the past year! You spend more time with Scott than with me, and then you wonder why I don’t tell you when he treats me like shit.” Chuck stormed off. 

Herc didn't know what to say. So he didn’t say anything. 

At the risk of making things worse by going to find Scott so soon, he went down to the infirmary, where Scott was unconscious and recovering from the short Neural Overload he’d experienced. 

Scott was still wearing his ring. While no nurses were looking, Herc slid it off his finger. There was still a bit of blood on the inside, and Herc wondered if he ever took the damn thing off. 

He pocketed the ring and headed to the Marshall's office. 

"Stacker? You in here?"

Marshall Pentecost appeared, reading from a data pad. "Have anything to report, Ranger?"

Herc dropped Scott's ring on his desk, followed by his own. 

"You don't have to turn those in, you know."

"Yeah, I do. Honestly, I never want to see the damn things again. My brother, too, while we're at it."

Pentecost set the pad down on his desk, next to the rings. He noticed the bit of dried blood on Scott's. "What happened, Herc?"

"He hit my kid." Herc shook with rage, and betrayal, and the feeling that he'd failed to protect Chuck. The phantom feeling of his knuckles connecting with Chuck’s face shot through his hand, and in that moment he cursed the Drift for making him experience Scott’s violence as if they were his own. "My kid! I want him _gone_." He wasn’t sure if he meant he wanted Scott kicked out of the PPDC, or just dead, but if it was the latter, he had a few ideas on how to get the job done… 

Pentecost tensed. Herc thought of the little girl that had trailed after him during his last visit to Sydney. 

"Stacker?"

"Get me proof, more than dry blood on a ring, and he'll be out of here." Pentecost's usually commanding tone became emotional and dangerous. "Your son’s word is enough. You won't get Striker, though. Not unless you find another co-pilot."

"I don't care about that. Put me on testing until I do find someone. Give Striker to someone else if you need to."

"You could ask your son."

"He's not a Ranger."

"He just graduated from the Jaeger Academy, Herc. Didn't you know?"

That hit him even harder than Chuck’s accusation had, because he finally realised how true it was. He’d avoided Chuck so much that he hadn’t even noticed his kid had gone through the Academy. "...No. I didn't." 

\---

"Chuck!"

Herc threw open the door to their room. Chuck was on Herc's bed, turning over his Jaeger class ring in his hands. The top was blank, a smooth circle of metal waiting to be engraved with the crest of a Jaeger and the mark of a technician -- or, if he was lucky, a pilot. Max jumped off the bed and growled a bit at the intrusion, before noticing it was just Herc and then dropping back down to the ground, silent. 

It startled Chuck, though. He shoved the ring into his pocket. "Dad! What are you doing--"

"Why didn't you tell me you were in the program?"

Chuck looked away from him, staring at the pictures on the wall. New ones had been added of Chuck in Alaska, as well as a laminated Jaeger Academy diploma. "I wanted it to be a surprise." He turned back to Herc and grinned. "Did you know I'm the youngest who ever enlisted?"

"You don't tell me anything any more, do you? Did you forget I told you not to keep things from me?"

Chuck's smile fell. "No. I haven't forgotten. I just wanted it to be a surprise."

"Like seeing Scott hit you in the Drift? That kind of surprise?"

"I didn't think you'd be so pissed off. I thought you'd _want_ me to be a Ranger, like you. It's not as if there's much else I can do, growing up in a Shatterdome."

"I wanted you to have a _life_!"

"Well I like _this_ life. If you wanted me to have a different one, maybe you should’ve been here to tell me. It was _easy_ to keep it from you that I was all the way in Kodiak most of the time. And it's too late to stop me now; I’m Drift compatible. All I need is someone I can Drift with. Maybe I'll even get Lucky Seven, now you're gettin' Striker."

"I'm not getting Striker."

"What?"

"Scott's out. Or he will be; soon as you agree to speak against him, he'll get court-martialed."

Chuck sat up. "You mean you reported him?"

"'Course I did. You think I'm gonna let him get away with what he did? He's been treating you like absolute shit for years. I always thought he'd get over it, but it's gone way too far. I'm sorry I didn't do something earlier."

"Don't be," Chuck mumbled, looking somewhat stunned. "But you could still get Striker."

"If I find someone else who can Drift with me. Doubt it; I don't really have a lot of trust left to give after this."

"D’you still trust me? I mean, I guess I don't deserve it, but..." Chuck trailed off waiting for an answer. 

Herc was, once again, at a loss for words, which wasn't really a strange feeling where his kid was concerned. "Maybe."


	10. 2020 (A Happy Interlude)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don't hold back on my account!"

\---

2020

\---

"Come on, old man! Don't hold back on my account!"

Herc looked down at the staff in his hands. Scott's memory came up again, and Herc felt the smack of his hand against Chuck's face. He pushed it down -- _I'm not Scott. I'm not Scott._

"Dad?" Chuck was already in a fighting stance. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt ya. It's not a fight, it's a dialogue, remember? Talk to me."

Herc looked up. Chuck's hands were shaking slightly; his back was to the crowd, so the only people who could see the shakes were Herc, the Marshall, and Miss Mori. 

But Chuck fixed him with a determined stare, tightening his hands on the staff, then loosening his grip again. His hands weren't shaking any more. 

_He's a Ranger now,_ Herc thought, raising the staff and sliding his hands along it until he held it properly. _It's time to treat him like one._

"Four strikes marks a win."

Finally, they talked. 

\---

"Excuse me, Rangers Hansen?"

Chuck and Herc turned around to see Mako Mori smiling at them shyly. She bowed her head. 

"That was a beautiful match."

"Thank you, Miss Mori." Herc smiled at her. 

She blushed; in some ways, she was still the 11-year-old child Pentecost had saved from the ruins of Tokyo. "The Marshall sent me to tell you that you've been assigned to Striker Eureka." Chuck punched the air and let out a shout of joy, nearly missing the rest of Mako's report. "You will report to your Jaeger tomorrow morning at 0900 for your first Drift."

"Thank you!" Chuck leapt forward and nearly fell on her in a hug. Mako was startled at first, but patted him awkwardly on the back. 

\---

Their Drift would be overseen by Marshall Pentecost and Mako Mori, on their last day before leaving for the Anchorage Shatterdome. 

"Gottlieb's predictive model is getting more detailed now that he's not programming Jaegers any more. He says the next one will probably head to Alaska. Might as well be at the right 'Dome if I can help it."

"He's not programming? Why?" Chuck asked, watching a drivesuit technician fit his chest plate. He winked at her as she straightened up, and she smiled back at him. 

"Didn't you hear?" she answered. "Striker's the last. Our funding got cut again."

"What? Why? The Kaijus are getting bigger and better; we need to do the same."

Pentecost grimaced. "Someone suggested we start building walls instead. It's exactly the kind of simple solution that would appeal to politicians. But if history tells us anything, it's that walls don't keep anyone -- or anything -- out for very long.

"Make me proud, Rangers. You're about to pilot the best we've got, and very likely the best we'll ever have."

"But no pressure or anything," Chuck joked. The drivesuit tech, who was at that moment attaching his crotch plate, snorted. 

\---

The Drift was nothing like a simulator. 

Chuck held a record in the Jaeger simulator; 28 kills out of 30 drops. But taking down a computer-generated Kaiju wasn't even scratching the surface of what it was like to be in another person's head. 

He could barely tell which memories were his and which were Herc's, and while he knew better than to dwell on them long enough to figure it out, it was hard not to latch on at all. A memory of hiding under a primary school desk as a Kaiju roared in the distance slipped through his fingers and was replaced by an image of Dr. Martin-Nguyen where she seemed to glow, followed by a confusing double perspective of their dialogue in the Kwoon. Chuck's elation and nervousness mixed with Herc's hesitation and resolve, flowing back and forth as the Drift began to clear, slowly replaced by the view through Striker's windshield. Herc no longer noticed the tinge of blue that ringed his view, but it distracted Chuck, and he tried to chase the blue that remained constantly at the very edge of his vision. 

_It's the Drift,_ Herc thought in response to Chuck's confusion. _Part of the neural surge. At first the Drift techs tried to get rid of the optical overlay, but then Rangers got used to it, and we can tell how strong the Drift is by how bright the blue is. In a few minutes you won't even notice it unless you look for it._

"Left hemisphere synchronised." 

Chuck grinned at Herc as he raised their left arms, bearing the weight of Striker for the first time. _I synced up first!_

"Right hemisphere synchronised. Two-pilot control initiated."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aww, look how adorable chuck is when things are going well for him. (remember, this is the dork that shouts "yeah! our power move!" while he's punching a kaiju in the face. don't try to tell me that's not cute.)


	11. 2021 part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm a lot better now."

\---

2021

\---

"Claudia, right?" Chuck hoped he didn't look too excessively sweaty; those drivesuits were _hot_ and he hadn't had time to take a shower before coming to lunch. 

Claudia the drivesuit tech looked up from her lunch and smiled at him. Her friends giggled behind her, and she snapped her head around to shush them. When she turned back to face Chuck, her face was red. 

Chuck's heart was pounding; he hoped his voice didn't crack. "I don't suppose you'd wanna go out sometime?" _Good. Good. Keep it up._

"Oh!" Claudia's friends started giggling again, and one pushed lightly at her shoulder. "Y-yeah! Definitely!"

_Yes!_ "Great! You free tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I mean, unless you need to get in your drivesuit again. How's lunch?"

"Very good. I'll be at your room at eleven." He held out his hand for a shake, then realised -- _Shit, what am I doing!_

Claudia raised an eyebrow, confused, but put her hand in his anyway. 

_Oh! I can--_ He turned her hand slightly and bent down, pressing a light kiss to the back, then let her go. 

She drew in her hand and stared at him with a mix of awe and adoration, and he waved a casual salute at her and left. 

He heard a chorus of girls "Aww!"ing and shrieking behind him, and ducked his head while he grinned.

\---

"So, I just realised I don't know your last name."

Claudia snorted and rolled her eyes. "And I thought you were romantic. It's Nguyen."

"Oh.” Chuck stared out at Striker Eureka, swinging his legs back and forth as they hung off of a catwalk. He set his lunch aside. “I know someone else with the same last name."

"It's not exactly uncommon," Claudia said around a mouthful of Chinese takeout. 

"Yeah, I know, it's just. She's my therapist."

"You have a therapist?"

"Yeah." Chuck made a face. "I'm, uh... I was in Sydney when Scissure attacked."

"PTSD?"

"...Yeah." 

"I'm sorry." She slid her hand over his and laced their fingers together. "And you still became a Jaeger pilot?"

"Well, I've been seeing Dr. Nguyen for years. I'm a lot better now."

"I'm glad."

\---

Claudia backed Chuck up into her door and grabbed hold of his jacket. "I'm gonna kiss you now," she said, and then she did. 

Chuck's hands flew up and tangled in her hair. He felt like he should take the lead, but he wasn't exactly experienced, and she was doing a fine job herself. 

She pulled away for a moment, just long enough to ask, "Is it too soon for me to say I want to sleep with you?"

Chuck's eyes went wide and he started to smile; she took that as the encouragement he intended and kissed him again, grabbing the handle on the door behind him.

"W-wait, Claudia..." Chuck broke away from her, but she cut him off. 

"I don't care that you're a virgin." She started to push him into her room, then immediately turned him around and pushed him against the wall next to the door. 

"Claudia..." Chuck started, but his voice caught in his throat. 

"Talk later," she said, shoving her leg between his. 

"No--"

She pushed off of him. "What the fuck?"

"I tried to tell you--!"

"You're a fucking _tranny_! Get out!"

"Claudia..."

"OUT!" She grabbed the edge of the door that hadn't quite closed and threw it open. "Go take your freakishness somewhere else."

"Please!"

"Don't even try to beg. Out!" She grabbed the shoulder of Chuck's jacket and shoved him out. "Don't even look at me."

"Please don't tell anyone!" Chuck shouted. His voice cracked. 

"Like I'd want anyone to know I dated a freak like you." Claudia slammed the door in his face. 

Chuck stumbled backwards down the stairs and then fell to the floor where he stood. He shoved his hands into his hair, pulling at the few strands long enough to grab hold of, then ran his sweating palms down his face.


	12. 2021 part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I thought you wanted to comfort me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please read the notes at the end of this chapter!

\---

Chuck thanked every deity he could name that Dr. Geiszler was the one who found him. 

"Oh, shit. Um." Newt held out a hand to Chuck. "Come on, man. I probably can't actually help you up but my room's right over there. Come talk to me."

Chuck grabbed Newt's hand to steady himself and stood. 

Newt grinned at him. "Step into my office." He indicated the room across the hall. "I share with Hermann but he won't be back for a while, and even if he interrupts us, well, he's grumpy but he's a friend. Sort of."

Chuck hadn't been in Newt's room since he was a kid, that day he saw Newt's college party photos. It was a different room, this time; Newt had been transferred so many times but finally came back to Sydney to (more or less) team up with Dr. Gottlieb. 

It was obvious which side belonged to which of the scientists. 

Newt's side was wallpapered with posters of various bands and monster movies, and the pinboard in front of his desk was covered in the photos Chuck had once seen as a child. There was Newt in a yellow and blue polka-dotted dress and bright red lipstick; there was Newt holding a microphone on stage at an environmental rights rally; there was Newt and three other young men dressed head-to-toe in black, Newt himself wearing very tight and very shiny pants, and all playing instruments; there was the strange picture of a rather short person (probably also Newt) in a rainbow morphsuit surrounded by a group of sweaty and scantily-clad people, all of them covered in glitter. The desk itself was clear except for an old laptop and a newer data pad. The bed was unmade, but the blankets were thrown back as if they'd been turned-down diagonally, rather than bunched up in a corner like Chuck's usually were. 

Dr. Gottlieb's side had no posters, but in one corner some photos had been taped up. A few were of Hermann and a beautiful woman in front of various landmarks all over the world. One was a wide-angle shot of the two scientists yelling at each other from across their lab, with a few assistants in the background acting as if it was just something that happened every day (which it was). Hermann's bed was made; his desk, however, was covered in papers that seemed to have no visible organisation. The frame of a holo-computer was set up on the back of the desk, but the keyboard was lost under the small mountain of paper. 

"You two don't bunk?"

"We could. The beds stack. But I'm not a fan of heights and Hermann has his own issues. Not like we need the space anyway, we're pretty much only in here to sleep. But this is about you. Take a seat." Newt gestured towards his bed. "Or lie down. Hell, one of my doctorates is in neurobiology, I probably know enough to be your temporary shrink. At least for now. Don't make it a constant thing, I'll probably completely fuck you up."

"I'll sit."

Newt shrugged. "Suit yourself. You hungry?"

"No."

"Which is Scorned Boyfriend for 'I could totally use a tub of fro-yo right now, but I'm too macho to say so.' Don't think I don't see through your crap." Newt reached into the tiny refrigerator under his desk and produced a carton of chocolate frozen yogurt. "Eat. Don’t worry, it’s Hermann’s; I won’t subject you to vegan ice cream at a time like this." He passed Chuck the carton and a spoon. 

"Thanks." 

"So do I need to kick your ass or hers?"

"I thought you wanted to comfort me."

"Well, you looked sad, and I'm pretty sure you're a relatively good guy, so yeah, I do. But if you fucked up, you also need your ass kicked. So what happened?"

"She didn't know. About my." He gestured to himself with the spoon. 

"You just... pointed to all of you?"

"Well, yeah."

"...You're gonna need to be more specific."

Chuck fussed with the lid of the carton, trying to get it off. "She wanted to sleep with me. But she didn't. You know. She didn't _know_."

"Aaaah. Got it. And she flipped a shit?"

"Pretty much." The top came off, and Chuck tried to scoop some out, then started hacking at the slightly-too-solid chocolate with the spoon.

"I'll make sure to invite her to the lab tomorrow, then. I've got some fresh samples coming in."

"Don't kill her."

"I won't _kill_ her."

Chuck just stabbed the frozen yogurt again. 

Newt sighed. "Listen. I'm not exactly the best person to get advice from. I'm not gonna bullshit you and tell you people are magically gonna start treating you better when you're older. They're not. Life's gonna suck for you sometimes. All you can really do is say 'fuck you' to anyone who makes that life-suck happen. 

"And as for Claudia, don't pine after her. Definitely don't wonder what could've happened if she wasn't a twisted piece of crap who only liked you for the 'nads she thought you had. 'Cause that's what she is, and it's not your job to fix her and make her like you. There's nothing wrong with you being you; there's a lot wrong with her and people like her who think that if you don't fit into a carefully pre-planned box, you're not worth their time. _They're_ the ones who aren't worth _your_ time."

Enough of the fro-yo had melted by that point that Chuck managed to get a spoonful out of it. It did kind of make him feel better. "So what do I actually _do_ about her? She's my drivesuit tech." 

"Exactly what I said. Don't give her the time of day."

"She told me not to look at her."

"Perfect! Don't. Don't so much as glance in her direction. Make her feel as insignificant as she made you feel. Don't waste time being mean; just don't do anything. God, I can see your caveman instincts fighting that. Justice isn't always about an equal and opposite reaction. I would know, my freakin' name is Newton.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter (which is technically yesterday's chapter by my time) is late, interestingly enough, because I went to a Transgender Day of Remembrance memorial that I found out about at the last minute, and it happened during the time when I had expected to edit this chapter. 
> 
> I actually got up near the end of it, during the time when they asked if anyone had anything they wanted to say, and gave a little thing I learned from writing this story. Well, I say little. It's important. And now I'm going to tell you. 
> 
> This story has made me think a lot about how I experience being trans*, obviously, but it's also made me think outside of my own perspective, especially for writing Herc. It's made me think about how other people experience the people they care about being transgender. And one of the most important things that I finally put to words is that, even if you don't know what to say exactly, or you don't know how it will be received, _please_ talk to your trans* loved ones about their experiences. 
> 
> Ask them questions. Be interested. Don't interrupt them. Let them correct you. _Listen to them_. You'll learn a lot, and they'll appreciate it. 
> 
> No matter how much you worry that you'll accidentally hurt them, remember that you can do so much more damage by not saying anything than you can by saying something the wrong way. 
> 
> To all the trans* people reading this, I hope you've found at least a little bit of comfort in it. And if you want to talk, I know I'm just a person on the internet to you, but I'd love to hear your story.


	13. 2021 part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Are they just sticking anyone who can Drift and throw a punch into a Jaeger?"

\---

At Striker's next scheduled test run, which was mostly intended for Chuck to get more familiar with the Jaeger controls, Claudia was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a young man Chuck had never met before started attaching the pieces of his drivesuit. 

_How am I supposed to ignore her if she's not even around?_

She was at lunch, though, sitting at her usual table with her friends. The second Chuck spent on a glance at her was enough time for one of them to notice, and when Claudia turned her head and looked him straight in the eye, he found he couldn't look away. 

She glared at him, daring him to keep staring. 

Chuck was never one to pass up a challenge. 

He moved down the aisle between tables, never taking his eyes off her. She stared back, unconsciously leaning back farther into the girl next to her as Chuck got closer. 

He knew he had an intimidating presence. What he lacked in height he more than made up for in his wide shoulders, his muscle mass, and the bit of extra pudge around his middle that he kept around to hide his hips. He was wearing the baseball hat that made him look a little bit like an asshole, and as usual was stretching out the chest of his t-shirt, his leather jacket covered in Striker's symbols thrown over one shoulder. He was the kind of person one might ogle from across the street, but move away from when sharing the sidewalk. 

He used that to his advantage. 

As Chuck came close to Claudia, he let his eyes drift down to keep them locked with hers, then looked back up just before he passed her. 

He kept going, face betraying none of the swirling mix of anger and pride inside of him. If he couldn't stop looking... well, he could look at her like she was a particularly interesting ant. 

It wasn't quite what Newt had told him to do. But it would work. 

\---

" _The Jaeger was found, destroyed and leaking highly radioactive fuel, on the shore a few miles south of Anchorage. Yancy Becket is confirmed dead at the hands of the Kaiju Knifehead, which tore him out of the Jaeger during their fight. His brother, Raleigh Becket, was taken to a hospital in Anchorage, name unreleased, and disappeared shortly after receiving treatment for sustained physical and mental injuries. His current location is unknown._ "

Chuck remembered when he idolised the Beckets. Young, attractive men, killing Kaijus and, if the rumours were to be believed, sleeping with beautiful Jaeger Flies. That was what Chuck wanted to be, and maybe, just maybe, he might one day look a little like them… 

But not anymore. Now he had his own face, one he liked; now he was one of the best pilots in his own right; now they were one traitor and one ghost. And Chuck was pissed. 

"If we weren't already losing funding left and right," Chuck said, "these incompetent idiots would be losing it for us. Don't know how some of these Rangers even get picked. Are they just sticking anyone who can Drift and throw a punch into a Jaeger?"

"Raleigh finished the fight and got the Jaeger back all on his own. I don't think it was incompetence that cost us a Jaeger and cost him his brother." Herc turned off the TV; he could get a better report from the PPDC records. "The Kaiju are getting better. Smarter."

Chuck laughed. "You sound like Geiszler. Kaijus are animals. They're getting better, but they're not that good."


	14. 2022

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He’s predictable, just like every Jaeger pilot should be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last week it was late because of trans* day of remembrance, this week it's late because i came home from college yesterday. 
> 
> happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate it!

\---

2022

\---

“Good afternoon, Ranger Hansen.” 

“Afternoon.” 

“Have a seat.”

This was the first time Herc had stepped into Dr. Martin-Nguyen’s office in years. She’d moved back to Sydney with the Shatterdome and most of her patients, and she seemed much more at home here than in Alaska. 

She opened the rings of a thick binder with long fingers -- piano fingers, Herc noted, not for the first time, but now with guitar calluses, and nails cut short on her left hand. A blank sheet of paper was freed from the binder rings. 

“Have you been reading the articles I sent you?”

“When I get the time.”

She nodded, wrote something down quickly, then looked up at him and smiled. “What are you here for?”

“How’s Chuck doing? You don’t-- you don’t have to tell me anything specific. I know you can’t. I just worry about him.”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

\---  
 _  
“How are you doing?”_

_“Fine.”_

_“You sure? There’s nothing you want to talk about?”_

_Chuck looked surprised he had even asked._

_“You can talk to me, you know.”_

_Chuck nodded. “Okay.”_

_**Movement in the Breach.** _

_They stared at the monitor in their room, displaying a Breach dilation and expected size of the emerging Kaiju._

_“I don’t expect it’s coming here--” Herc started to say._

_**Rangers Chuck and Herc Hansen, please report to your Jaeger.** _

_“...Maybe a rain check on that conversation?”_  
  
\---

“I’m trying.”

“Are you sure about that?”

\---  
 __  
“The hell is my old man doing all the time anyway?”

_Even through the heavy metal door, Chuck’s voice rang out. It grabbed Herc by the heart and twisted._

_“He’s never around, and I know he’s not visiting new Rangers ‘cause there _aren’t_ any new ones.”_

_The Marshall’s calm but powerful voice travelled just as much. “He’s not going anywhere. You two are among our best, I wouldn’t send either of you off--”_

_“Then where is he?”_

_“I don’t claim to know the everyday activities of each and every Ranger.”_

_“Maybe not, but he’s your friend, isn’t he?”_

_There was silence for a few moments; Herc imagined something akin to a staring contest was happening._

_Stacker broke the silence. “If you don’t trust your father, why are you still fighting with him?”_

_“I trust him plenty. I trust him not to let me die when we’re in a fight, and I trust him to never be around when we’re not. He’s predictable, just like every Jaeger pilot should be, right?”_

_Herc left before he could hear anymore, and before Chuck could storm out. He wondered what it said about him that he couldn’t face his own kid._  
  
\---

“Tell me about your son.”

Herc stared at her for a moment. 

“What do you know about him?”

“I-- My-- Chuck is…” He trailed off, but quickly searched for something to tack on to the sentence. “I know he’s transgender, obviously.”

“More than that.”

“He’s a great Ranger. His mind looks a hell of a lot like mine does, and absolutely nothing like Scott’s. I guess I’m grateful for that.” 

“What kind of music does he like?”

“I don’t know. He has the radio on sometimes, but I don’t know any of the bands and they all sound different.”

“Do you know how much he sleeps?”

“No. I’m usually asleep before he gets back to the room, and I wake up before he does.”

“Do you know what his doses are, or how often he gets them?”

“No.” He didn’t really know much of anything about what kept Chuck looking the way he did. 

Dr. Martin-Nguyen shifted in her chair, uncrossing her legs and laying the binder flat on her lap. “How does he feel about his mother? Does he remember her?”

“...I have no idea.”

“Herc, I’m not a family therapist. Most of my knowledge of child and developmental psychology is how it relates to mental disorders and atypicalities, not how it relates to parenting. So I’m not going to presume that I know best how you should raise your son out of my career. But I _am_ a mother of two children, and from that I can tell you that you _need_ to communicate with Chuck.”

“I never know what to say to him.”

“And I’m sure that scares the shit out of you, hm?” Herc nodded in response. “But you have to try anyway. Someday it may be too late.”

\---

“Chuck?”

“What do you want, Dad?”

“I thought maybe we could talk for a little while.”

“Talk?” Chuck rolled his eyes. “See you later, Dad, if you’re still around when I get back.”


	15. 2023 (Man, Machines, and Monsters)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Machines made sense.

\---

2023

\---

Machines made sense. 

Chuck could pry open one of the hundreds of metal doors and panels anywhere on Striker Eureka and, from just a look or a listen, tell if something was wrong. He could replace what he needed to replace, fix what he needed to fix, and expect that everything would come out all right in the end. 

Machines made sense. 

It wasn’t just Striker. It wasn’t just Jaegers. Chuck didn’t like replacing anything he could fix -- partially out of an almost nostalgic need to have something unchanging in his life, even if it was just _stuff_ , and partially out of necessity as there wasn’t always a replacement available anymore -- so he learned how to fix just about anything. From radios to desktop HUD to helicopter rotors to Jaegers, Chuck had a talent for fixing things that other people might just give up on. 

Machines made sense. 

Machines didn’t care that his mother was dead. They didn’t care that his father barely talked to him. They didn’t care how good of a Ranger he was, or if he fucked up that one time. They didn’t care about the scars on his chest from a surgery he thought he’d never need or the come-and-go swelling on his thigh from twice-monthly testosterone injections. They didn’t care that he was terrified of Kaiju (just like everyone else), or that he fought them because if he was going to go down, he wanted to go down fighting. The idea of death wasn’t as scary when you knew you tried your hardest not to die. 

Machines made sense. 

People didn’t. 

People cared a lot that his mother was dead, that his father was never around. They cared how good of a Ranger he was, because if he wasn’t, they’d all be dead. They cared very much whenever he fucked up. If they knew about his scars, or how high his doses were, they’d certainly care. And he would never tell them what he was afraid of. 

People didn’t make sense. 

Chuck didn’t know how to fix people. He barely knew how to fix himself, and other people? No chance. People took more than a few wires and a bit of metal to fix. 

People didn’t make sense. 

With people, you could break them so easily, and you might never be able to fix them, no matter how hard you tried. Maybe you didn’t even want to. 

People didn’t make sense. 

But here, in the middle of the Sydney Shatterdome, surrounded by the din of metal on metal, sparks raining down upon him, suspended up to 80 meters above the ground, things made sense to Chuck. 

Machines made sense.


	16. 2024

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “My name is Chuck.”

\---

2024

\---

Two taps sounded on the half-open door to Chuck and Herc’s room. “Anyone home?”

Chuck looked down from his bed to see Newt standing in the doorway. Dr. Gottlieb was behind him at the bottom of the steps. Chuck jumped down from the top bunk. “What are you doing here?”

Newt put his hands up in front of him. “Whoa, what’s with the hostility? I’m not here to fight you. Just wanted to let you know we’re leaving.”

“Leaving?”

“Yeah, they’re sending us to Hong Kong. Just the two of us; the rest of the team is staying here. We’ll keep in touch?”

“Sure.”

Newt gave him a little wave, then turned and left. Gottlieb stayed where he was as Newt brushed past him. “You coming, Hermann?”

Gottlieb glared at him. “What have I told you about using my first name in front of others?” Newt raised his eyebrows, as if challenging Gottlieb. “Go. I’ll be along.”

“Suit yourself.” Newt headed for the elevator.

Gottlieb made his way slowly up the steps, only looking up when he reached the top. Chuck tried to pretend he hadn’t been staring; he’d never really gotten used to the fact that Gottlieb was nearly ten years younger than Herc, and yet he walked with a cane. 

“I’m used to it,” Gottlieb said, catching the object of Chuck’s interest. “At this point, people staring at me is a part of life. Even without him around.” He nodded toward the door. 

“Why are you here?” 

Gottlieb pressed his lips together into a thin line, then responded. “We have something in common.” Chuck started to interrupt him, but he held a hand up. “We’ve spent our entire lives trying to impress our fathers. I just wanted to say, make sure that whatever you do, you do it for yourself. Your father cares about you; mine didn’t. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t live your own life.”

“I like this life.”

Gottlieb nodded. “Then maybe better advice would be, don’t push people away.”

“I don’t remember asking for your advice.” Chuck crossed his arms and stood, hoping to intimidate Gottlieb. 

He didn’t budge. “No, but you looked like you needed it.”

“Anything else? No ‘fastest way from point A to point B is a straight line’?”

“That is something to keep in mind, but no. Good luck, Charles Hansen.”

“My name is Chuck.”

“Is it not short for Charles?”

“...I guess. But. Just Chuck.”

“Hm. Well, good luck, Chuck. I’ll be off now.” He left, and Chuck stared after him, wondering where all that came from. 

\---

"Deactivated? Are you insane?!" Chuck stood up, dropped his hands down on the desk, and leaned forward over it. "We've taken down six Kaijus in this year alone! Jaegers are falling all over the world, and you're shutting Striker down?"

Pentecost stood slowly, never losing eye contact with Chuck, who straightened as Pentecost did. "I'm not deactivating you because I want to. We've lost almost all our funding. The Sydney Shatterdome is going to be closed down soon. You're the last Jaeger here."

"Which means we need to stay active! Who else is going to protect this country?"

"The UN wants to build a wall." He closed his eyes to restrain himself from rolling them. 

Chuck laughed. "A wall. 'Cause that's gonna keep 'em out. Kaijus can tear apart Jaegers; they can tear apart a wall too. And some of 'em have wings! How long d'you think before they can use 'em?"

Pentecost took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I know that. Pack up your belongings. Find somewhere to go. The Shatterdome will be closed by Christmas. Your Jaeger will remain in the hands of the Australian military, and you’ll be fully decommissioned in January.”

“But Marshall--”

“You’re dismissed."


	17. Jan 2 2025

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hong Kong?"

\---

Jan 2 2025

\---

Chuck tore open the last cardboard box and stuffed the PPDC-issued sweaters within into his closet, then dropped down on his bed. Living with your dad was admirable when you were both Jaeger pilots, but this was just embarrassing. 

He scratched at his right thigh, at the little swollen patch of skin that marked where he'd just gotten his first dose of testosterone since being kicked out of the PPDC. 

He'd never measured his life in doses of T before. As long as he could remember, it had always been in days since the last Kaiju attack. 

Chuck sat up, then nearly fell off the bed as the apartment shook. 

"Chuck!" Herc appeared in his doorway. "There's a Kaiju. He's comin' for Sydney. They want us in Striker."

Zero days. "Well, what are you waiting for, old man?"

"Don't call me that."

\---

As soon as the Hansens arrived at the nearly empty Shatterdome, a young man with a LOCCENT ID tag started talking a mile a minute. "The Kaiju is making headway through the wall. They said it was un-breachable but Mutavore's going through the thing like a knife through butter. It's fast, it's big, and we've got about ten minutes to get you to it. After this, you'll be sent to Hong Kong."

"Hong Kong?" 

"Last Shatterdome open. Rumour is, the Marshall's got one last trick up his sleeve, and he needs you and your Jaeger to make it happen. Good luck."

\---

 

There was nothing glamorous about killing 50-story monsters in the streets of a heavily-populated city. It was just punch after punch, until the Kaiju was tired enough that Striker could afford to take the time to fire its missiles. 

Yet helicopters -- not just the PPDC ones, but also those belonging to news stations, risking the lives of civilians for a few seconds of footage -- buzzed around the Jaeger’s head. 

It was distracting, to say the least; in all blunt honesty, it was annoying and sometimes infuriating to have to dodge the copters during a fight. The PPDC knew to stay a certain distance away; the news teams didn’t care. It was either get the story, or die trying. 

Didn’t they realise they were risking more than their own lives? 

Chuck tried to keep it all business inside the conn-pod, tried to just focus on where he needed to hit to take down this Kaiju like he had all the ones before, but then one flew right in front of Striker’s eyes and Chuck lost it. He swung his arms out wide and threw the Kaiju into an evacuated building. Herc shouted at him once to contain himself, but Chuck did it again, and again, and just gave up caring how much he flung the thing about. 

It worked. They took Mutavore down, left its corpse bleeding all over Sydney’s streets, and walked the Jaeger to Hong Kong after the stunned acceptance of their decision from LOCCENT Sydney. 

Maybe someday the news might learn that not every spectacle is worth a close-up shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after this is when we get into the events of the movie. i still haven't corrected all the dialogue, which wouldn't usually be a problem -- except that finals are about to happen and i don't quite have the time to be watching the same movie several times and editing large chunks of fic. 
> 
> so, updates will be put on hold for the next few weeks. the next update will be either saturday, december 21, or tuesday, december 24. 
> 
> in case it's the latter, i'd like to wish all those who will, like myself, be celebrating it a happy yule ahead of time! enjoy the winter solstice to the best of your ability. and to those who celebrate winter holidays i'm not familiar with, i hope you also enjoy your festivities!


	18. Jan 3 2025

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "That's really useful."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we're back! happy holidays and all that.

\---

Jan 3 2025

\---

Chuck blamed Raleigh Becket for the fall of the Jaeger program. He always had, since Raleigh washed up in a Jaeger torn to shreds and missing a brother, and then disappeared as soon as he was no longer bleeding to death. 

Lady Danger wasn't the first Jaeger to fall, but Raleigh Becket was the first Ranger to desert the PPDC. 

So when Raleigh showed up at the Shatterdome, taking a leisurely tour through the hangar and sightseeing, meeting all the Jaegers, Chuck glared at him. 

Later, when his dad made the mistake of inviting Raleigh to their table, Chuck didn't bother to hide his absolute hatred of the traitor in front of him. 

"That's really useful. If we get into a fight, you can build our way out of it."

Chuck saw his dad's head drop in shame. He almost felt bad. 

Almost. 

"It’s guys like you that brought down the Jaeger program. If you ask me, you're dead weight. You slow me down, I'll drop you like a sack of Kaiju shit." He meant it. He absolutely meant it. "Come on, Max." 

As Chuck walked away, he tried to suppress the thought that the Beckets used to be his heroes -- young guys fighting Kaiju after Kaiju and winning; that was who he always wanted to be. He tried to suppress that Raleigh was exactly what Chuck had always hoped would one day stare back at him in the mirror when he'd started taking hormones. He ignored the nagging voice that told him the only reason he was angry was because he felt let down by the brothers, by how they’d failed, by how Raleigh had run off when the world needed him. 

Because the other option was looking those thoughts straight in the face, and he wasn't sure he could do it.


	19. Jan 4 2025 part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I quite like my life."

\---

Jan 4 2025

\---

Chuck went to Raleigh’s compatibility matches because the Weis went, and Chuck knew how judgemental they were going to be. As soon as Hu leaned in close to his brothers and started whispering in rapid Chinese, Chuck’s almost sadistic smirk made itself known, though he couldn’t even tell which dialect they used, much less what they were actually saying. The tone, however, was easy; they were making fun of Raleigh. 

And of course they were; Raleigh wasn’t even trying. Chuck knew how Raleigh fought. He’d studied the Beckets’ fighting style in the Academy, even tried to emulate them a little -- though he’d never admit it. Raleigh was impulsive, fast, forceful, and he didn’t hold back for anyone. But he was definitely holding back here. Even as he won his first match, four to zero, Chuck could tell he was barely paying attention to his opponent, and wasting energy, taking more moves than necessary and picking unnecessary moves like throwing opponents down onto the ground when they had perfect balance beforehand. 

Raleigh looked up at Mako after each match, and as Mako’s expression soured further each time, and Raleigh’s frustration showed more and more clearly, Chuck realised he was showing off. He’d already picked his co-pilot; he was just trying to impress her enough to get her in the ring with him. 

And he was failing miserably. 

But Raleigh was still stubborn, after all these years, and he found a way. 

“Don’t think your best and brightest can cut it in the ring with me?”

No-one breathed; a look passed between Mako and Pentecost, and if Chuck had a camera on him, he’d probably spread around photos captioned with “Kick his ass, Mako; I’ll hold your flower.”

Chuck knew how this would end. Mako and Raleigh would become Team Danger, and would probably be amazing together. 

But he had to keep up appearances, and he did still have a thousand bones to pick with Raleigh. Pentecost called their match off and used that Marshall Voice to remind them that it was _his_ authority they were under, not the other way around, and _he_ was the one who would decide who would become Raleigh’s other half. Chuck enjoyed watching them squirm -- Raleigh, even more frustrated now he thought he’d put in all that work for nothing; Mako, caught between disbelief that Raleigh had tried so hard to give her a chance, and disappointment that Pentecost seemed to have cut that chance off. 

Maybe they weren’t so mediocre after all. 

\---

"He's a has-been, she's a rookie. I don't want them getting in the way of my bomb run!"

He didn't care that he knew Mako. He didn't care that he knew how nice she was, that he'd once hugged her when she passed on the message that the Hansens were assigned to Striker, that Max seemed to love her almost as much as he loved Chuck, or that the Marshall could kick his ass for being so disrespectful to her. She was Raleigh’s co-pilot, and the two of them had just royally fucked up in front of all that was left of the PPDC. 

“Here’s the thing, Raleigh; I want to come back from this mission. I quite like my life.” 

He didn't even remember what else he said to Raleigh, only that he called Mako a bitch and suddenly he'd been punched in the face by someone who had held back for so long only because he had so much self-control. And Chuck had pushed him that inch too far by going after Mako. 

"Apologise to her!"

"Screw you!" _Real witty, Chuck. Fantastic comeback, really._

Raleigh threw him against a wall, and Chuck felt a pipe buckle with the force of his back hitting it. Pain spread through his lower back, and he doubled over, screaming, as steam spread out around him. 

The steam cleared, and Chuck pushed down the pain to the same place as his broken hero-worship, raising his fists. This wasn't over yet. 

He barely got a hit in before he was slammed face-first down onto the ground, arm twisted up behind him. Almost immediately, Raleigh was off of him, and Herc dragged Chuck up off the floor, holding him back when he tried to run after Raleigh for another go. 

"You're a Ranger, for God's sake! Start acting like one!"

Chuck took a step back. He could see the disappointment on his father's face, clear as day -- could almost feel it. 

He knew his dad didn't mean it that way, but Chuck was crushed by the sudden realisation that no matter what people expected of him, he'd never be able to live up to it. 

_Maybe I am a freak._


	20. Jan 4 2025 part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We're good at smashing things up, you and I."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you haven't seen the [deleted scene with chuck and herc](http://brooseween.tumblr.com/post/63544815887/), i suggest you do so before reading this chapter. please let me know if the link doesn't work!

\---

When Herc finally made it back to Striker to check on repairs, Chuck knew it wouldn't end well.

"You're a great Ranger. Is that what you want to hear? Everybody knows that."

"What more d'you want me to be?" He wished he could say his father raised him better than to get in fistfights with fellow Rangers; the best he could believe was that his father expected better of him. 

"A better person!"

"A better person..." Chuck started to leave, then turned back. He might as well say it. "Well you know what, at least you can't blame yourself, because you didn't raise me to be anything! You know, after Mom died I spent more time with these machines than I ever did with you. The only reason you and I even speak any more, old man, is because we're Drift Compatible." He moved in close, not sure if he was more enraged or hurt. "We're good at smashing things up, you and I. But you know what? We don't even need to speak at all. I'll catch you in the Drift, Dad."

He left, not even looking back. 

They had half a maintenance team left to replace the hydraulics. Chuck wondered if anything could fix the two of them. 

\---

Chuck passed Dr. Gottlieb on his march away from the Jaeger bay. He was muttering under his breath and making his way towards LOCCENT at what Chuck could only describe as a hobble; it seemed whatever had happened to his legs had gotten worse since the last time Chuck saw him. He tried to pass by without being noticed, but Gottlieb looked up and stopped whispering. 

"Ranger."

"Doctor."

"Have you been following my advice?"

Chuck thought back to the year before, when the two scientists had left Sydney. He'd never thought about Gottlieb's advice since. "...Yeah. Definitely."

"Don't lie to me. I've had enough people lie to me, I can see right through it. You didn't keep in touch, either."

"I've been busy."

"I'm sure you have, but it would have been nice to hear from you. Maybe then you wouldn't have turned into even more of a brat than you were the last time I saw you." 

"Fuck off."

"You've spent the last year pushing people away, haven't you? You're unsatisfied with your relationship with your father, so instead of trying to fix it like a normal human being you just make it worse." 

"I don't need this. I've had enough therapy in my life, I don't need more from you."

"Evidently you haven't had enough. What have you been going for? PTSD that you don't really have?"

"Gender dysphoria."

Gottlieb opened his mouth, then closed it. Chuck was reminded briefly of a frog.

"When I tell people to leave me the hell alone, it's usually because they deserve it. Now leave me the hell alone. Go crawl back to your chalkboards; I'm here to fight, not talk."

“Suit yourself.”

\---

_A better person._

"We can't just sit here and watch them die!"

_Don't push people away._

"Don't disengage!"

_Apologise to her!_

"Yeah, Lady! Kick its ass!"

\---

"My kid'll never admit it, but he's grateful."

Chuck knew. 

He knew why he was always his dad's _kid_. 

Not his son -- not in Dad's words, not ever. He'd seen it years earlier, in one of their first Drifts; Herc still saw him as Charlotte, as his daughter, as the little girl in the endless little dresses who had an imaginary friend and sometimes pretended to be him. When you Drift with someone, you can't really hide anything. 

To still hear him saying that hurt -- Chuck was 20 years old, for God's sake, he wasn't a kid any more. Sure, he did childish things sometimes, like pick fights with the man who'd just saved both their lives. But Chuck was a man, no matter what was under his clothes. 

And if his own father, the only person he had left to care about, couldn't see that, what did it matter if anyone else did?

This wasn’t their only hurdle to get over, but if Herc’s memories were anything to go by, it might be their hardest one. 

Chuck nodded once at Raleigh and Mako. It didn’t fix how he’d treated them, but it was something. He’d never had to fix a broken relationship before; rather, he’d never really tried. Everyone else, he’d just let go of, or been horrible to, and Herc had done all the fixing between the two of them, as much as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year!
> 
> the next chapter will be the last.


	21. Jan 5 2025 (End)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm gonna miss you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the final chapter. Thank you to everyone who followed this story as it was going up, and to everyone who will read it in the future. I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you got something out of it. 
> 
> While this is the end of the linear plot of _Becoming Chuck Hansen_ , there will be a few mini-stories that didn't make it into this one, whether because they didn't advance the plot in any significant way, or they were ideas from my original story notes that didn't quite work with what I was trying to accomplish. There is also one so far that I didn't want to include here only because it would have raised the rating of this story, and while that's not a bad thing, it wasn't something I wanted to do. 
> 
> If you're interested in seeing the side-stories, please follow the [Trans!Chuck series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/59173). 
> 
>  
> 
> _This chapter was posted at 11:10 AM EST on Jan 4, 2014; or, 12:10 AM HKT on Jan 5, 2014._

\---

Jan 5 2025

\---

Minutes past midnight, two Category 4 Kaiju emerged from the Breach. 

"How are we supposed to match up in there?" Chuck’s chest felt tight; his heart beat rapidly and his lungs burned with every breath. He didn’t get nervous. Ever. Why now? 

"I bring nothing into the Drift. No memories, no emotions. And you?" Pentecost's expression didn't change, but there was a joke in his eyes. "You're an egotistical jerk with daddy issues, a simple puzzle I solved on day one." Well, he wasn't wrong. "But you are your father's son, so we'll Drift just fine."

Even Pentecost could say it. Why not his father?

Herc looked like he was fighting something inside himself to find the words he needed. _I once made you promise me you'd never keep anything from me, but I haven't done the same._ "When you Drift with someone, you feel like there's nothing to talk about." _You're my kid and I love you more than anything else in the world._ "I just don't wanna regret all the things I never said to you--" 

Chuck shook his head. "It's okay. I know 'em all." _Love you too, Dad._ Max made himself known, and Chuck bent down to scratch him. "I’m gonna miss you," he said to the dog, but loud enough so that his father would hear. 

There were tears in Herc’s eyes when Chuck stood back up. Chuck swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat, and his voice cracked for the first time in years. "Take care of him for me." _And take care of yourself. Please._ He turned away. 

"Stacker?" Herc called out. Pentecost lifted his head in acknowledgement, and Chuck turned slightly; he had a feeling this was really for him. 

"That's my son you've got there. My _son_."

Chuck had no words to respond, and no air left to form the words if he had them. The only thing he knew was the feeling of a hole in his heart being filled. 

\---

“We can clear a path. For the Lady.”

Only weeks after Angela had died, Herc left Chuck at Scott’s house to attend a memorial bonfire for those lost to Scissure’s attack. Everyone was asked to bring however much they could carry in wood scraps from the rubble of the city, and something that had belonged to their lost loved ones. 

Building the enormous structure had taken over two days, and it burned for the rest of the third. 

He returned to Scott’s house in the middle of the night, unsure of whether the memorial had really helped at all. When he saw Chuck’s tear-stained face and heard the three-day growl of Chuck’s empty stomach that matched his own, he knew he should have at least taken Chuck with him, if not just stayed behind. 

He regretted ever going, but it didn’t stop him from spending the next ten years almost entirely absent. That was something for which Herc would never be able to forgive himself. 

"My father always said, when you see a shot, you take it. It’s been a pleasure, Sir."

After Chuck's first session with Dr. Martin-Nguyen, she'd e-mailed Herc a series of PDFs and links to websites, all with varied and sometimes conflicting information about the experiences of transgender people. She'd sent it with a short paragraph explaining that while many transgender people share some experiences, and some opinions on them, their overall lives and personalities are as different as those of the rest of the world. Chuck's would probably be something completely new, and Herc would have to talk to him about it to really have any idea what Chuck was going through. 

The articles said to talk to Chuck. The articles also said Herc would never understand, and that scared him out of ever saying anything. They never seemed to say that even though he didn’t understand didn’t mean he shouldn’t try. 

“What are they doing?”

“Finishing the mission.”

Herc read all of it within the week before the second meeting, but the first night had hit him hard. He'd had nightmares -- horrific dreams about Chuck going through the kind of tortures the authors had recounted from their own lives. And above all, a number stuck out. 

Twenty-three. 

_The average life expectancy of transgender individuals is believed to be about twenty-three years._

The average life expectancy of a Jaeger pilot wasn't much better. So many were so young; most never made it to thirty. 

“Sensei. Aishiteimasu.”

In some ways, Chuck Hansen, age twenty-one, died an old man. But in the tear-shiny eyes of his father, he died far too young. 

“Stop the clock.”

\---

_Charles Angelus Hansen_  
Beloved son and brave hero  
Lived and died protecting the human race  
August 2003 - January 2025 


End file.
